Promises
by nevthebunny
Summary: Angelina had never broken a promise before that day. George was trying not to break any either. A story of how George and Angelina came together after Fred's death and how they coped together.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N So I've been working on this for far too long. It started its life as a little plot bunny a year ago before I even had my account here. I always thought that George and Angelina was more than just George going after his dead brother's ex and so this was born. There is something like seven chapters, all already written and the last chapter will be of a mega size. Enjoy! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own George or Angelina or anything else mentioned in this fic. **

Nine years was how long Angelina Johnson had known the Weasley twins and she had never been able to avoid them. They were just there at every integral point in her life. Looking back, Angelina couldn't think of anything important in her life at which one or other hadn't been present since she was eleven years old.

However, there were so many days when she wished she had never met Fred and George. Today was one of them. Silent tears cascaded down Angelina's cheeks yet she made no sound. Alicia was sobbing. Lee was arguing with Bill: he wouldn't believe it.

"No! No, Bill, you've got it wrong. Fred can't be... he just can't," Lee choked.

Alicia put a comforting hand on his arm but he threw it off and stormed from the room in tears. Bill just looked hopelessly after him before sinking down onto the floor and crying.

Neither girl knew what to do. The world was falling apart, that was the only explanation. Or maybe this was a dream? Lee Jordan never stormed off in a huff. Bill Weasley was always in control and as for Fred, there was no way, absolutely no way anyone so full of life could possibly be _dead_.

Nonetheless, Angelina knew deep down that Bill wasn't lying. Fred Weasley was dead. Somehow she could accept the idea and that scared her. Alicia was comforting Bill now. Angelina tried to help but nothing came out of her mouth. She tried to help Bill up before realising that she hadn't moved. She was petrified to the spot with shock.

Suddenly the reality of the situation- Fred, _George_- hit her and she began to hyperventilate. Drawing in deep breaths she sprinted up the staircase, collapsed onto her bed and sobbed into her pillow. That was the first time Angelina had broken a promise.

* * *

><p>"<em>Fred," Angelina caught her boyfriend's attention. He looked up from whatever latest experiment he was working on and grinned up at her.<em>

"_Hey girlfriend," he said in a rather girly way. _

"_Fred, I think we should go back to being friends," she gabbled._

_Fred frowned slightly but didn't betray any other sign of how he felt._

"_Okay," he said simply and went back to his work._

"_Okay?" Angelina asked incredulously. "I just broke up with you and you say 'okay'?"_

"_Sure," Fred shrugged nonchalantly. "We both knew this wasn't going to last, what with the fact that I fancy anything in a skirt and you fancy my twin brother."_

_Angelina was gobsmacked. "How did you... I thought..."_

"_You thought I was an unobservant idiot," Fred smiled. "It's cool, Angelina, I really don't mind. You and me were never serious."_

_She was relieved. "Thanks Fred. I never thought you were an unobservant idiot. I never knew you were so understanding, though. Maybe I should reassess my evaluation of the Weasley twins."_

_Fred just chuckled. "Just promise me one thing though. Make sure George makes me best man at your wedding," he half-joked._

_Angelina blushed, and then laughed. "Of course, Fred. I promise."_

* * *

><p>No one questioned why George Weasley was sat on the floor in the middle of the Great Hall. They'd moved the bodies but his gaze didn't stray from the exact spot where Fred had laid just a few hours previously. He rocked back and forward, back and forward. Over time people came, people went and he just sat there.<p>

It was around noon, judging by the angle that the sun poured into the windows in the Hall, when a stocky, well-muscled redhead came to sit beside him. For about 10 minutes they just sat in perfect silence until Charlie finally spoke.

"You need to get some sleep, George," he said. George said nothing.

"Maybe you're right," the older Weasley continued. "You're probably getting more rest down here than I was up in your dorm."

Even with no response from George, Charlie continued. "The girls didn't want to stay in their dorm alone so I had to deal with Angelina sobbing into her pillow, Lee destroying what's left of the common room, Alicia attempting to reason with him, what I'm told is your old ridiculously uncomfortable bed and the bed that no one would go within a few metres of."

Still George said nothing. Without a word Charlie picked him up and slung him over one shoulder. George's 'hey' of surprise was muffled by his brother's upper back.

"You always forget. I may be smaller than you but I'm still ten times stronger."

Charlie stomped decisively out into the warm May air. It smelt like poppies, beautiful red poppies and sure enough and brand new poppy garden had sprouted to the left and was spreading halfway down to the gate to Hogsmeade. Looking much further down George could see the source. Professors Sprout and Flitwick were busy creating the garden, looking as though as soon as they stopped they would burst into tears. Flitwick was building a gigantic obelisk and carving words on it with his wand.

Both men looked away quickly. Charlie continued all the way down to the Black Lake and sat George down not very gently onto the bank. The sun had turned the lake into an incredible mosaic of sparkling mirrors. The tranquil blue water just sat there, still, oblivious to the fifty-plus lives that had been lost just metres away. Fred loved the lake; it always seemed to reflect his mood out onto the surface.

When he was in a creative mood it twinkled mischievously. When he was sad or brooding it was an unreadable grey. When he was initiating a plan it rippled restlessly. When he was happy it was a silent, still blue.

George couldn't cry. Charlie was sobbing away to his right. There was only one thing that George processed in his brain all of that day. Fred was happy.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N This is a pretty short chapter. I would have posted yesterday if it weren't for silly computer viruses. Please remember to review **

**Disclaimer: If I was JK Rowling, I'd be rich. Thus, I am not either of these things. **

"Ginny! You've been in the bathroom for a long time; let your brothers have a go! Ronald, control your owl! Where's Bill? Charlie, where's Bill?" Molly Weasley was frantically running around the Burrow trying to organise her children. George observed her silently from the corner of the room.

"Please stop fussing, dear, I'm sure they'll be ready soon," Arthur attempted to reason with his wife.

George began to creep upstairs but was stopped by his mother's sympathetic voice. "There you are George dear, how are you today?"

"I'm perfectly wonderful, never been better." George stormed up the stairs. Just as he had asked, his five remaining siblings were ready and waiting for him in Ginny's room, along with Fleur, Harry and Hermione.

It had been Fred's idea, actually, to have none of them wear black to his funeral. To symbolize the seven of them they were all dressed in rainbow colours. Bill in vibrant red, Charlie in the same shade of orange as his hair, Percy in an ugly yellow, George in sky blue, Ron in a painfully clashing indigo and Ginny, violet.

Green was to be the colour of the first flowers they put on Fred's grave- technically it was a sweet smelling form of grass; there wasn't a green flower they could find at such short notice.

"Perfect," George almost smiled for the first time since...

"George, must I wear zis 'orrible shade of red?" demanded Fleur. "I look like a... a..."

"A scarlet woman," jested Ron.

"Exactement!"

"No, you don't have to wear red, you just have to wear one of these seven colours and you chose red," George explained for the hundredth time.

The group traipsed downstairs to be met with an appalled Mrs. Weasley.

"You are not wearing that to your brother's _funeral_," she began to howl.

"Remind me why we're doing this," Charlie muttered into his brother's ear.

Serenely, almost calmly, George replied, "I'm not breaking my promise. This is what Fred wanted."

He was drifting, Charlie noticed, still slightly in denial, but that was a start.

* * *

><p><em>The twins fell into their seats, suppressing all the jokes they constantly thought of, despite being at a funeral. <em>

_ "Do you reckon Dumbledore would've wanted this?" Fred asked his brother. "All the _crying_ and moping around?" He said 'crying' like it was the most disgusting thing he could imagine._

_ "Nah," George agreed. "We should be celebrating his life."_

_ Fred caught Harry's eye and realised they were both thinking of Dumbledore's idea of a few words- not this heavy speech type but 'Nitwit, Oddment, Blubber, Tweak'_

_ "Hey Freddo," George said. "This is gonna sound all intense and stuff, but just in case could you promise me…"_

_ "That your funeral will not be half this sombre," Fred finished. "Deal. That goes for you too. I do not want anyone wearing black at my funeral, it's an awful colour."_

_ The two brothers shook on it and turned back to the front, pretending the conversation had never happened._

* * *

><p>Sitting on the grass, away from the mourners, George Weasley was joined by Angelina Johnson. She appeared to have had the same idea as George and was wearing a deep royal blue: Fred's favourite colour, George recalled.<p>

To the young man's surprise she said nothing, just sat there. Her beautiful dress would be covered in grass stains when she got up but she didn't care. It was then that George realised how much Angelina understood him. He was never one for talking, unless a joke was appropriate, and he felt distanced from his family who spoke only of missing Fred. Angelina didn't want to talk. She didn't want to tell him how sorry she was or how much she'd miss him because George knew that. She wanted to listen if he wanted to talk. She wanted to show him she was there.

Strangely George found himself initiating a conversation. "Did you love him?" he asked.

"Yes, I did," Angelina replied, not because it was what he wanted to hear- it was the truth.

"Do you miss him?"

"Like half of me has been taken away."

The two sat there in silence for quite some time. Angelina was the only person who knew even a little how it felt. She had lost her other half too, or so George thought.

Truthfully, Angelina felt this way, not because of the loss of Fred, though he had been one of her best friends, but because his brother had not cracked a single joke. The George that she had fallen in love with had left her with this shell, this quiet, empty shell of a man.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N This is even shorter, sorry. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Harry Potter. **

Angelina rubbed her eyes as they screamed in rejection. She was exhausted. Working long shifts in Diagon Alley wasn't any good for her but there were several reasons for it. Firstly, she needed the money. Secondly, it was very difficult to get a decent job straight out of Hogwarts, especially at the Ministry at the time she had applied. All Quidditch had been put on hold during the war and showed no signs of being revived, so that was out too.

And finally, George. He still lived in the Diagon Alley flat but no one had seen so much as a light on anywhere in the building since they'd all abandoned it last year. Some small part of Angelina felt responsible for him; not because she was the only one who noticed, heck he had a huge family who all went into the shop to bug him every day, but just because.

Besides, Angelina never went in, not once. She would walk all the way up to the door, telling herself today would be the day but then she saw the stupid U-No-Poo sign and was once more reminded of the twins, her twins. They laughed and joked as they opened the Diagon Alley shop- was it only two years ago?

It was that night in early July that she was finally called out.

"Ange," Alicia sighed. "You know I love you but I'm calling an intervention."

"What for?" Angelina yawned.

"This! Diagon Alley is way off the path you said you wanted to go down and you hate it. Why do you even still work there? You know there's a position at the Department for Magical Games and Sports and they want new talent…"

"George…" Angelina began to intervene.

"Don't you dare 'George' me, Ange," Alicia snapped. "You haven't been to see him once. I have my spies in Madame Malkins."

"Katie," Angelina realised.

"Don't you remember that promise we all made at the beginning of seventh year?"

Angelina did.

* * *

><p><em>"Woohoo, we're seventh years," Lee Jordan catcalled through the common room, earning him several death glares from prefects, including Hermione.<em>

_ "It seems like only yesterday we were innocent first years, doesn't it Georgie?" Fred commented. _

_ Angelina snorted._

_ "Are you doubting our innocence, Angelina darling?" Fred asked in mock indignation._

_ Alicia sighed sadly. "This is it, guys. After this year we'll have to go out into the big wide world and actually look after ourselves."_

_ "Way to be a downer, Liss," George rolled his eyes. _

_ "Nah, it's not a bad thing," Lee defended her. "We'll get to follow our dreams."_

_ "Provided there isn't a war," Angelina said practically. "Which there will be now You-Know-Who is back."_

_ "We'll just make new dreams," Lee shrugged. _

_ Alicia suddenly grinned. "Let's all promise to follow our dreams no matter what," she said. _

_ "I'm in," Lee said a little too quickly._

_ "We're already halfway there," the twins chimed in. "Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes."_

_ "Ange?" Alicia asked sharply._

_ "Yeah, sure," she replied reluctantly. "I'll follow my dreams."_

* * *

><p>A week later, Angelina was once more at the door of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. She wanted so badly to tell George she had gone for the job; he would be so proud. At least, the old George would've been.<p>

Yet she couldn't do it. She was coping with losing Fred one day at a time and she finally noticed that there was a reason she'd never gone into the shop: going into the shop meant seeing George, seeing George meant seeing Fred, seeing Fred meant thinking about Fred which meant talking about Fred to George and letting all her sorrow come to the surface. She just wasn't ready to do that yet.

It was wrong, she knew that, almost like punishing George for being so like Fred and it was particularly terrible since so many other people were doing it. George needed her but she reasoned with herself that he would never know; it's not like he would even notice really.

Angelina Johnson turned from the door and disapparated to her office at the ministry as George Weasley watched her from the window, as he did every morning. He wanted more than anything to go to talk to her. She didn't want to talk to him though, did she? It was always Fred she loved. Always about Fred.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N I would just like to say I do have issues with chapter length. I am used to one-shots and don't really like making unnatural chapter breaks. So to make up for obscenely short chapter lengths today is a DOUBLE UPDATE. Yay. The last chapter is written and will also be of obscene proportions (by my standards anyway) but it will be long. After that obscenely long A/N, I wish to thank my reviewers, particularly ReallyUhSharp for pointing out my length issues. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I still don't appear to own this series. Pity. **

Five months, four weeks and three days. It was October 31st and George watched the happy Halloween celebrations on the street below him. He had barely left the flat in that time because every single time he reached the door he heard him.

His twin brother whispered in his ear so pitifully.

"George, don't leave me. George, you left me. George, stop. George, you promised."

So he stayed. He couldn't bear to ever leave Fred. He'd never had to before. It was always best to just stick together and they'd always wanted to anyway.

The younger, living, twin's hand was on the door handle. Tears ran down his cheeks. He missed Fred. He missed Angelina. Hell, he even missed Percy. The handle turned… he was going to make it.

"George, you promised," the whisper finally sounded.

George turned back to the empty bed that was gathering dust. In several long strides he was in front of the mirror. He stared into it, daring it to show him something, anything, other than Fred.

Fred's face stared back. It was angry at him for leaving Fred behind.

"Fred, please, I didn't mean to! Fred! Please!" he wailed but Fred only got angrier, smashing his fist on the table.

"You promised," hissed the voice.

* * *

><p><em>"Georgie, can I talk to you?" Molly Weasley pulled her son aside on Platform 9 ¾. <em>

_ It was September 1__st__ 1989; she was sending her boys to Hogwarts. _

_ "I'm really going to be in Gryffindor, Mum," George grinned. "We'll have so much fun with Nearly Headless Nick."_

_ "George, behave," Molly reprimanded. "I need you to promise me something, honey."_

_ 'Innocent' George looked up at her with wide eyes._

_ "You and your brother are very similar but I think you know that there are ways in which you are very different."_

_ "I know," George shrugged. "I got the brains, he got the ideas."_

_ "Exactly," Molly sighed. "I want you to promise you'll never, ever, leave him behind, okay? No matter what happens at Hogwarts you two need to stay friends. Can you promise me that?"_

_ George was confused. Why was his friendship with his twin in doubt?_

_ "Of course I promise."_

_ "Hey, George, I found Percy!" Fred called. _

_ "Fred, behave!" Molly yelled and the Weasleys returned to normal._

* * *

><p>"No! I'm not leaving you! I'll never leave you! Stop it! STOP IT!"<p>

Finally George lashed out, striking the mirror with everything he had.

"Please. Stop. Haunting. Me." Every word was punctuated by a blow and the mirror shattered into tiny pieces; Fred was gone.

George sank to the floor, lost in his tears, with blood trickling down his arm. At last he was letting out the anguish that had been firmly rooted in denial. He had been haunted by the images of Fred in every reflective surface and the voices he heard, taunting him but he had also been comforted. If he could see and hear Fred, Fred was still there.

He was gone. In the mirror's shards he could only see fractions of Fred: an eye here, some hair there. It was as if Fred himself had been splintered and all that was left was George and a broken mirror.

It could easily have been decades that George sat in his flat, unmoving. He stopped screaming and all was silent. That unnerved him. There had never been a silence before. It was empty; missing a crucial piece so George sat waiting in vain for the piece to return.

If not for a knock on the door, he would have been waiting forever.

He heard a voice, a timid, _female_ voice say, "George."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N And here's part two . Next update will be at the weekend because I'm in the middle of my mocks at the moment. **

**Disclaimer: I still don't appear to own this series. Pity. **

This was the right thing to do and she knew it. It was going to be _so_ difficult to talk to him after everything. As she ascended the stairs one at a time she glanced down at the photo in her hand. It was her and Fred after the Yule Ball. They were both grinning crazily but the reason she had kept it all these years was George frowning jealously in the background. It was Fred's photo and he had pointed it out to her, ensuring that the photo had stayed hidden from his twin.

As Angelina watched Fred laughed, over and over, and a tear slid down her cheek. She wasn't doing this just because Charlie had demanded it and she wasn't doing it for Alicia or Lee. She was doing this for Fred, for Fred and for George.

Because he needed her.

* * *

><p><em>The 20-year-old took a deep breath as she stood in the fireplace, praying that the minimal amount of Weasleys were home and that it would be Arthur or the occupant she sought who inhabited the kitchen.<em>

_ "The Burrow," she sighed, tossing Floo Powder in all directions. _

_ The kaleidoscope of images made her think of Fred and his love of colours. Everything reminded her of Fred these days._

_As soon as she fell out of the fireplace she noticed that Arthur was indeed in the kitchen. However, he wasn't alone._

_ "Ange," Lee said blankly._

_ "What are you doing here?" Charlie demanded in a fairly hostile manner._

_ "Is Ginny in?" Angelina asked, her voice shaking a little. "I'm here on Ministry business."_

_ "Takes work for you to come and see how your 'second family' was doing, I see," Charlie snarled._

_ "That was a long time ago, Charlie," the woman replied icily._

_ "Please, like you didn't come here to check up on _him_."_

_ "I'm just here to talk to Ginny."_

_ "She's at Hogwarts," Arthur told her._

_ Cursing her idiocy, she made to be back on her way but Charlie blocked her path. However, it was Lee who spoke._

_ "You've got to help him, Ange. We can't get through to him at all," he tried to reason. _

_ She closed her eyes in despair. "I can't."_

_ "You bloody can't?" Charlie exploded. "I'm the one who bloody can't. See these?"_

_ He shoved up his sleeve to show a row of bruises on the outside of his arm._

_ "He's resorted to stunning me and shoving me out the door now. HE DOESN'T EVEN LEAVE THE FLAT." _

_ "Please, Charlie." Angelina's composure was slipping._

_ "Please just go and see him," Lee pleaded. "The George Weasley Support Group is running out of ideas."_

_ Angelina nodded. "Okay," she said quietly. "Okay."_

* * *

><p>She knocked on the door, being courteous even if it ruined her chances. There was no reaction so she called his name timidly.<p>

"George."

Slowly, she opened the door and was horrified by the sight that met her eyes.

"_George!_"

The young woman hurried to the man on instinct.

"He's always there, Ange," he whimpered.

It broke Angelina's heart to look at him and see what he saw in himself.

"I know, Georgie." She slid gracefully to the floor and put her arms around him.

Without any warning, George pushed her away violently. "NO YOU DON'T! YOU DUMPED HIM. YOU DIDN'T LOVE HIM LIKE I DID!"

In a move that shocked her as much as him she slapped him straight across the face.

"YES I DID!" she screeched.

"Then why aren't you hurting!" he demanded. "_Why_ aren't you in SO MUCH PAIN you can't move?"

As quickly as the aggression had come, it crumpled and the sound of loud sobs filled the flat. Angelina merely returned to the floor and pulled him close to her. Slowly she brought out her wand and pointed it at George's bleeding arm.

"Episkey," she muttered.

Eventually, George's sobs decreased and he looked up at her. She was very suddenly aware of just how close they were as his head got closer to hers but just before they could meet George pulled himself out of her grasp, like a man who had just broken free of a well-cast Imperius curse.

"No, we can't do this. You're my dead twin brother's ex-girlfriend!" He clamped a hand firmly over his mouth, aware of what he'd just said.

Angelina stood up.

"George, don't you think that…" she began but he silenced her with a swish of his wand.

"Get out, Angelina," he said dangerously. "Just get out," he whispered.

She left.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N And here's chapter 6. Chapter 7 is the final chapter. It's about 4000 words long and will be up next Sunday. Enjoy and remember to review. **

**Disclaimer: These three characters belong to JK Rowling.**

**5th November 1998**

Light flooded into the room and George groaned.

"Up and at 'em, George, chop chop," the rather demanding figure said.

He sat up to find Angelina Johnson grinning at him.

"Why are you here?" he asked curiously.

"I came here to take my best friend out for the day, what's wrong with that?" she laughed cheerily.

"So where's Alicia?"

It was weak but he was joking and Angelina's smile widened even more.

"Come on, you idiot, get dressed. We have a full day ahead of us."

The ginger guy took a moment to come to full consciousness and weigh up his options. Around half an hour later he'd made it as far as the door and he hesitated.

It seemed that Angelina completely understood.

"He wouldn't begrudge you one day away from him, George," she said quietly.

So she was the one to turn the doorknob and open the door for him and in that moment the door represented so much more to George. He set foot outside it. The voice didn't call after him. Angelina held her hand out and instinctively he took it.

The human contact felt good after being cooped up for so long and he grasped it like a lifeline. She smiled reassuringly at him and they descended the stairs slowly.

Upon reaching the bottom, George gasped. The store was immaculate; there was not even a trace of dust, let alone the debris from the numerous death eater raids. He could have opened up there and then if only the stock was back in.

"What happened here?" he asked, confused.

Angelina grinned. "They were surprised you didn't notice. Lee and Ron were in here basically all summer with Hermione, Harry, Ginny, Alicia and Charlie. It gave them something to do to keep their minds… and you wouldn't have wanted to do it, George."

He was completely overwhelmed with a sudden sense of hope. Possibly the main reason he hadn't come down here was fear that it wouldn't be the same but it was. There was an essence of such Fredness that he couldn't help but smile. Happy tears felt strange.

"I…"

"We're all around if you ever need us, Georgie." Angelina squeezed his hand.

He said nothing but the Weasley was grateful for Angelina's understanding of what he suspected was Charlie's interference.

* * *

><p><strong><em>2<em>_nd__ November 1998_**

_ "What the hell did you say to her?" Charlie Weasley burst forcefully into the stale flat. _

_ George barely glanced up._

_ "Go away, Charlie," he said._

_ "You know what? I won't!" his brother shouted. "You're pushing us all away, George! Can't you see we're just worried about you?"_

_ George just ignored him._

_ "I'm just going to stop bothering. You don't care," Charlie sighed disgustedly. "Merlin, poor Angelina. She's in pieces. Well done."_

_ The older Weasley walked straight out of the door._

_ "Wait, Charlie." George sounded incredibly tired as soon as he let the anger slip from his voice._

_ "Yes?"_

_ "Does she hate me?" George whispered one of his biggest fears._

_ "No, actually. Just remember, she lost him too and she also lost you. You can push your family away as much as you like but please, George, make an effort with Ange."_

* * *

><p>"Ange, where are we going now?" he sighed. "I just want to go home."<p>

"George you've been in the flat for six months. You can manage twelve hours away from it."

It was dark and the duo had spent the majority of the day walking by a local river. This was something pre-war George would not have been caught… wouldn't have done but suddenly he found it refreshing. Now they were in some grotty Muggle field in the middle of nowhere.

"Do you know what today is, George?"

George shrugged. "Erm… November?"

"More specifically?" Angelina pressed.

"It's not your birthday is it?" George asked, worried he'd forgotten.

She laughed. "No you missed it; it was two weeks ago. Today is Bonfire Night."

George sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Ange…"

"There will be no running away. You love fireworks," his friend insisted. "Hey, look, that woman's selling those funny Muggle light-up contraptions. Let's go buy one for your Dad."

"I don't have any Muggle money," the Weasley said stubbornly.

"I do," Angelina grinned.

He seemed to finally be enjoying himself when he took the light-up toy and the vendor asked, "Does your girlfriend not want one, sir?"

Within a second George had dropped the toy and sprinted off. Angelina snatched it up and ran after him.

"George, come on. She didn't mean anything by it," she yelled.

Finally he stopped running and turned to face her.

"_She_ might not have done. Did _you_?" he demanded.

Angelina stared at him, out of breath. "What?" she asked incredulously.

"What happened last week. You've been skirting around it all day but, Ange, I know you've only stuck it out because you're hoping that one day I'll fall for you. That's why you left when I asked and why you bothered coming back today. I _know_ you, Ange. But I won't! My brother loved you and I will never do that to him."

He sounded so desperate it was almost as if he needed Fred's love for Angelina to be true. He needed that one reason to keep himself away from her.

"George," she sighed. "I know you're hurting but I need you to know I left and came back for the same reason: I love you. I know you won't believe me when I tell you Fred was our biggest matchmaker."

George kept shaking his head so she walked up and took his hands.

"But, see, the thing is, I'm in love with you, George"-he wasn't leaving, she noticed-"but I'm still your friend. I want to be here as whatever you need. We can forget this whole conversation if you want, okay?"

George was silent. Angelina's lip trembled in anticipation. She had just put herself right out there and laid all her feelings bare. A thousand scenarios from this point flashed through her head.

"Okay. Ange? Thanks for telling me," he told her calmly.

He wiped a tear from her eye and hugged her tightly. Red light burst across the sky, galloping and colliding in a kaleidoscope.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N Okay then. This is the last instalment. I hope you've enjoyed this fic. I'm started a new one about the five Gryffindor boys in Harry's year now so please do check that out. (Shameless advertising, I know.) Remember to review! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own George or Ange or anyone else in this fic. (Or anywhere else for that matter)**

24th December 1998

"You're sure you want to do this?" Angelia clarified.

"Ange, we've been through this. We've been hanging out every day for seven weeks and this is the only way I'll get to see you today." He clutched his heart dramatically. "I can't go on without you."

Angelina rolled her eyes. "Overkill, George," she chuckled.

Finally the door in front of them was opened by a woman in her late forties.

"Angel, baby!" she exclaimed. "And you must be George."

The two friends walked into Angelina's childhood home. This was the Johnson family Christmas dinner this year since the senior Johnsons were going away, or at least that was what George had been told. It was unnerving for George to consider that Mr and Mrs Johnson were the entirety of Angelina's close family.

At first the dinner was awkward with just the four of them until Mr Johnson asked George a question.

"So, do you like Quidditch, son?"

"You know George was a Gryffindor beater for five years, Dad," Angelina sighed.

"I do, sir," George replied politely.

"What's your family's team?"

"With… so many siblings, we don't all support the same team. It makes life interesting," George commented. "We've got Harpies, Falcons and, unfortunately, Cannons fans in my family."

"And yourself?"

"Gotta go with Puddlemere United," George grinned and they were off.

It wasn't until the very end of the meal that things started going anything but smoothly.

"Looks like our Angel's finally got herself a decent boyfriend," Mrs Johnson said.

Angelina stared at George. There was a moment where time seemed to freeze the alarmed look on Angelina's face.

"He's not my boyfriend," she insisted quickly.

"It's okay, Ange," George said, sighing.

"But you've been spending all your time with him and we know how much you like him!"

"Mum!"

"Really, Ange, it's okay. People will assume…"

"So why _aren't_ you dating her?" Mr Johnson demanded.

Voices were raised higher and higher, overlapping in a strange canon.

"Just stop all of you!" Angelina yelled. "His twin brother was my ex-boyfriend, okay?"

They fell silent.

"Was?" Mrs Johnson asked.

"He's dead," George quietly.

The Johnsons took a step back and fell over themselves apologising.

Angelina reached for George. "I'm so sorry," she said, her voice thick with emotion, searching his eyes for forgiveness. "Let's go."

George caught her arm, "Hey, Ange. It really is okay."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Dear George,<strong>_

_** I love Christmas, you know I love Christmas. Since you're reading this I'm going to miss the next one. I don't know if it's 1998, 1999, 2000… I'm not gonna be there so you need to make sure everyone has fun. It's your responsibility; Christmas isn't Christmas without pranks! You need to keep our tradition alive every Christmas and birthday because they'll need you. You'll need some good inventions…**_

* * *

><p><span>25th December 1998<span>

The hustle and bustle was much more familiar to George. Everything was ready and everyone was there, albeit a bit more subdued than normal. Molly Weasley ran between the kitchen and the door, welcoming Mrs Tonks and Hagrid as well as the rest of the family. Percy had brought his secret girlfriend who he had been with for nearly two years and who, to everyone's surprise, was a Muggle.

George himself was absorbed in his plans for the ultimate Christmas prank so he didn't hear the door opening again.

"Thank you so much for having me, Mrs Weasley," a very familiar-sounding person was saying to his mother.

"It's no problem, dear, and you know it's Molly."

George stood up as she entered the room.

"Angelina," he said.

She grinned and hugged him. "You're always saying how great Weasley Christmases are so I figured I'd come and find out," she smiled.

That wasn't really the reason so much as she was worried about George but she was sure he would see right through the excuse anyway.

"Look," she added. "I'm sorry about yesterday."

"Seriously, Ange, it's no problem. My folks'll tease us something rotten."

All was forgiven and the fifteen of them (and Teddy) sat down to dinner. Conversation bubbled around the table about as much as could be expected.

Unfortunately, Angelina noticed the smirk that crossed George's face as the turkey was brought in.

"What're you planning, George Weasley?" she hissed.

"I would recommend ducking," he advised.

Just as Mr Weasley jabbed the knife into the turkey, it exploded, sending both of George's parents flying. Everything turned to chaos.

Harry, Hermione and Ron drew their wands on instinct. Bill shoved Fleur to the floor. Audrey screamed. Ginny jumped up. Hagrid yelled, "What's goin' on?"

Mrs Weasley got to her feet as George rose triumphant from beneath his chair and began to laugh. It was a deep belly laugh that they hadn't heard in a long while.

"GEORGE WEASLEY!" Molly shrieked. "WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU!"

The hilarity of the situation was swiftly observed and everyone ended up laughing.

"Welcome back, Mum," George grinned wickedly. "Merry Christmas from me… and Fred."

* * *

><p><em>5<em>_th__ July 1997_

"_What if we don't? If I don't make it through? We have to think about that. George… I can't keep going without George. I can't lose him. But what if I do? Or he loses me? We'll have to, I don't know, move on. There'd be new beginnings, without me. New years, birthdays… he'll need to know he's not alone."_

* * *

><p><span>31st December 1998<span>

"George!" Angeline yelled over the noise that was the party. "Great party! Thanks for inviting me!"

"Are you kidding? Of course I invited you. I've got some brilliant Wildfires for tonight; gave the job to Charlie since he was willing and, you know, he's used to the burns."

Angelina grinned at him and he pulled her out into the open air. Suddenly the countdown to the New Year began.

"10… 9…" the crowd screamed.

"Actually, there was something I wanted to talk to you about." He fiddled nervously with his shirt. "Will you go out to dinner with me?"

"6…5…"

She laughed. "George we go out to dinner every week… oh."

He chewed his lip. "Will you?"

"2…1…"

She merely kissed him.

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

The fireworks exploded over their heads. Eventually they broke apart.

"That was either a yes or a very nice no," George quipped.

Angelina whacked him. "Of course I'll go out with you."

George skilfully extracted two glasses of champagne from an enchanted waiter.

"Then here's to new beginnings," he toasted.

"New beginnings," she murmured, with a tinge of sadness.

* * *

><p><em><strong>…and where better to find them than Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes? You better not give up the inventing and the shop; I worked hard at that! So I'll haunt you if you do. Just kidding (or am I?) Go into that cupboard I always said was radioactive and see what you can make of the bits and bobs in there (if it hasn't imploded yet).<strong>_

* * *

><p><span>16th February 1999<span>

Angelina swung by George's on her way to work even though she usually apparated in from her flat.

"You're up early," she noted as she saw him in the shop. "What'cha doing, George?"

"Good morning, Angie," he smiled as he dumped some boxes on the front desk. "I'm working. Supplies just came in and I thought I'd get inventive."

"That's great!" his girlfriend exclaimed. She caught sight of the clock. "Merlin's pants! I'm late. Sorry I've got to run. Have fun!"

"You too!" he called after her.

He scurried into the back room with his cardboard box. There was a thrill to inventing again; it was what he loved to do. It was weird to be in the dusty room without his brother but the place still smelt of Fred and as he opened the cupboard he knew that he wouldn't be working without his brother for a long time.

"It's a gold mine in here, Freddie," George gasped, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

He could have sworn he heard a voice whisper back, "That's why I left it for you. Have fun, George."

* * *

><p><strong><em>Reopen the shop. Employ Lee as well (I was going to suggest it anyway because of the whole U-N-E-M-P-L-O-Y-M-E-N-T issue). Besides, he'd be good for you. Ickle Ronniekins won't be going back to school to get his N.E. either. If he's still around get him on board and that's an order.<em> **

* * *

><p>Later that evening, George was having dinner with his girlfriend.<p>

"You're quiet, sweetie," she said. "What's on your mind?"

He looked up at her.

"Fred wouldn't want all our work to go to waste, would he?"

He had become very comfortable in recent months in discussing Fred with Angelina.

"I've thought of the best birthday present for him."

April 1st 1999

Bright colours swirled around banners and eager crowds congregated, jostling excitedly. It was a stark contrast to the former darkness and poverty that had engulfed this street so recently. Angelina's heart swelled as she noted the banners held by so many people she hadn't ever met. They held a simple slogan but a heartfelt message: _For Fred._

Slightly worried about what she would find, Angelina slipped silently into the flat.

"George?" she asked softly. "Happy Birthday."

In deep indigo robes, he sat at the kitchen table staring at the drab white wall. Slowly he rose to his feet.

"Twenty," he sighed. "A new decade, a new beginning. I suppose you warned the fam to stay away? That'll be why they aren't here to pester me."

The woman smiled to herself. "Not exactly." She led him to the window and he caught his first glimpse of the endless masses.

"For Fred."

Within ten minutes he had made it to the raised platform in front of the brightly refurbished shop. The crowd fell silent.

"Welcome!" His voice echoed around the nearby buildings. "Welcome to the grand reopening of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. As many of you know, my brother and co-founder, Fred Weasley, died fighting for our freedom. This is our tribute! Please continue to join me in making sure there are always a few more laughs in this world. Happy Birthday, Fred."

George nodded in acknowledgement as a lump formed in his throat and he began to step down from the stage.

Quietly and almost unnoticeably a tiny voice became audible from the back of the crowd. She was singing a traditional Muggle song.

"Happy Birthday to you…"

Suddenly every single person who knew the song joined in, their voices melding and harmonising to create a beautiful wall of unified sound. Slowly every wand was raised in silent salute for a man few had ever met.

"Happy Birthday dear Fred. Happy Birthday to you."

* * *

><p><em>5<em>_th__ July 1997_

_ "I don't want to die. There are too many things I'd miss. I already miss the castle and then I'll miss the shop, Mum, Dad, Bill, Fleur, Charlie, Ron, Ginny… hell, I'll miss Percy… and George."_

* * *

><p><span>2nd May 1999<span>

The crowds in black trudged up to the looming castle which had been reinstated to its former glory. A troupe of redheads stood out as the only splash of colour there. To an outsider, the family would seem complete but there was a gaping hole and not just in the ear of one of its members.

They reached an imposing obelisk overlooking the expansive lake and took their seats. Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, stood on a platform and the assembled masses fell silent.

"One year," he boomed. "Three hundred and sixty five days since many of our number were last here. On May 2nd 1998 Lord Voldemort finally fell here in this castle and the war ended. But he wasn't the only one to die on this day. Seventy-six people lost their lives and the war was responsible for thousands more deaths. We are here to remember those people, every last man, woman and child. Let us have a minute of silence."

The wind cast an enchanted atmosphere upon the gathering. Thousands of witches and wizards fell silent. George held Angelina's hand and thought of Fred. He thought of how they did everything together. He thought of the joke shop. He thought of Fred's infectious Fredness and he couldn't help himself. He smiled.

"Thank you," Kingsley said. "Now trainee Auror Harry Potter would like to say a few words."

George's most likely future brother-in-law extracted himself from his sister and made his way to the stage.

Harry cleared his throat nervously and began.

"I wish I'd known more of the incredible people we remember today. I know that when most people look over the list of names they are just that: a list of names. That isn't right. We should remember these people as people, not just names and statistics. I know I'm immeasurably grateful to them. I'll always remember Colin Creevey's infectious smile and, frankly, irritating enthusiasm and Nymphadora Lupin's perseverance, the way that Fred Weasley could improve everyone's mood just by walking into a room, Ernie Macmillan's unwavering loyalty, Susan Bones' supportive nature and how Remus Lupin was like a father to me. And that's only the people I knew personally, a tenth of the number that died here, and I want to share those memories with everyone. We owe them a lot but most of all we owe it to them to keep their memories alive. If any of you has a story to tell, please come up here and tell it. Thank you."

A few people murmured in appreciation and several got up to speak. Tears glistened in Angelina's eyes as she held onto George for dear life.

Suddenly and silently, George stood up. Several people turned to look at him in utter shock. He was George Weasley, the quiet and sullen one who'd barely spoken a word since the death of his twin.

He got to the podium and began to speak. It felt like he couldn't stop. He was telling people about Fred, sharing everything that Fred was and they were laughing with him, appreciating his brother. After that he never missed an opportunity to spread the love he had felt when Fred was present.

* * *

><p><strong>While you're at it, talk to him, you big idiot. Don't you bottle things up, Georgie. You better let someone in; you're not very good at being alone.<strong>

* * *

><p><span>7th January 2000<span>

"Lee? A little help?" Angelina's voice came from behind a walking stack of boxes as she struggled into the shop.

"Blimey, Ange!" he exclaimed. "You realise you're moving into a tiny flat that already has one occupant, not some huge palace?"

Angelina gave him a look that couldn't mean anything that he would dare to say out loud in front of his mother.

"I'm surprised it took the two of you _so long_ to move in together, seriously," Lee added, not having learned when to shut up.

"We've only been together a year," Angelina said.

"And a decade," Lee muttered under his breath as they ascended the back stairs.

"Hey, you alright?"

A voice awoke George Weasley from his troubled staring. He looked up to see his girlfriend stood in the doorway to the bedroom of his tiny flat, her moving boxes strewn around the living area behind her.

She noticed that he was looking at the twin beds that remained in the room, despite his promise to move them out.

"I can move back out, you know. I know how you feel about this place. Or you could move in with me and keep the flat…"

George cut her off. "No," he said firmly. "I want you to live here with me."

Angelina grinned. "Okay then."

As his girlfriend tactfully went to unpack her boxes, George looked around the room one last time. He pointed his wand in the direction of one of the beds.

"_Reducio_," he muttered and pocketed the now tiny object.

* * *

><p><em>5<em>_th__ July 1997_

_ "And then there's the future. My brothers'll get married and I might not meet their wives. Ginny'll make a beautiful bride and what if I'm not there?"_

* * *

><p><span>20th August 2001<span>

The whole day had been magical. His little sister, the baby, had floated down the aisle in her beautiful dress and he now officially had a new brother. The reception was being held in The Burrow's garden and once again it had been up to him to de-gnome the place, although for Ginny he didn't mind so much.

The best man (Ron, of course) had just finished toasting to the new Mr and Mrs Potter, which still sounded odd, and George was sat on Table One with three of his brothers and their other halves as well as Luna, Neville and Angelina. Harry nodded at him: the signal for his own impromptu toast. He stood up.

"Hello there, ladies and gentlemen. I know I'm not supposed to give a toast but I asked the groom about this yesterday."

Ginny looked to her new husband, confused.

"For those of you who don't know, I'm Ginny's brother George. Two years ago we lost our brother Fred. Now I know that more than anything Fred wanted to be here today for this occasion so I just wanted to make a toast from Fred as well as myself."

He raised his glass.

"To this lovely couple, may you have many happy years together. To Harry and Ginny!"

"To Harry and Ginny!" everyone chorused.

Later George found himself sitting alone by the dance floor. A petite figure slipped into a chair beside him.

"Thank you for that beautiful toast, Georgie," Ginny said happily. She hugged him.

"Fred would have wanted me to tell you you look particularly stunning," George smiled in return.

Ginny got up to dance but there was a pressing question that had been plaguing George all night. He and Angelina had been together almost a year and a half. They were getting serious and George fully intended to have a similar ceremony with her but an ancient question still plagued him.

He caught his sister's hand and indicated his girlfriend.

"Gin, do you think Fred would have approved?" he asked quietly.

Ginny smiled sadly. "I know he did," she replied. "He loved you and he loved Ange like a sister when it came down to it. I know that look, George. Are you thinking of asking her to marry you?"

George shook his head at the suggestion.

"No. I can't do that until I'm certain he would be okay with it. Maybe someday I will."

Ginny nodded. She knew that George was just creating obstacles for himself but decided to let him; he had to sort out his feelings himself.

"Dance with me," she requested.

George gave the biggest smile as he twirled his favourite sibling around the dance floor for the next five minutes.

* * *

><p><strong>You're going to laugh at me now because I'm gonna get really sappy. In the future at some distant point, I want you to have a family. Mum'll like that and it'll be good for you. Do it for me, because I can't.<strong>

* * *

><p><span>31st December 2002<span>

"Wow. You're dressed up." Angelina looked at the elegant scarlet dress robes that George was wearing and pulled awkwardly at her dress.

George turned around. "You look beautiful," he smiled.

"Well, you wouldn't tell me where we were going so…"

Her boyfriend of three years held up his hand to silence her. "You look perfect, Angelina. Shall we?"

He offered her his hand which she took gratefully and they disapparated.

"Keep your eyes closed," George whispered in her ear as she felt them land.

"George," she laughed. "Am I allowed to know where we are yet?"

"Just one minute."

She heard him mutter some incantations and the sound of a spell reaching its target before he let her open her eyes.

She gasped. They were on a riverside in the beautiful clear night air and the entire place was lit up with dazzling lanterns whose reflections twinkled in the quiet water.

"Do you recognise it, Angie?" George asked softly.

She nodded in assent. "Bonfire night, three years ago."

"This is my favourite place. It reminds me of you and that day. You saved my life that day, Angelina, and it always makes me think how close I came to losing you. I don't want that to ever happen again. Three years today we've been together."

Angelina smiled at him. "I love you for remembering things like that."

At that exact moment a solitary firework appeared in the sky across the river. It burst in a whirl of colour and the shapes settled into five distinct words: _Angelina, will you marry me?_

She inhaled abruptly and whirled around to face him. He was kneeling behind her with a ring, his gaze questioning.

"Yes!" she exclaimed loudly. "Yes, George, yes!"

In a flash he picked her up and twirled her around, grinning.

"Happy New Year, fiancée!"

* * *

><p><em>5<em>_th__ July 1997_

_"I want to be best man at George's wedding. I want to have my own wedding…"_

* * *

><p><span>15th June 2003<span>

"Well, I personally think you're bonkers," Ron commented.

"I'll tell Hermione you said that," Harry teased.

Ron stared at him. "Don't you dare!"

George still looked downcast.

"Don't listen to him," Harry reassured him. "Marriage is great."

"Because Angelina doesn't boss you around too much already."

"Shut up, Ron."

"If you two don't stop bickering I'll ask to make it a double wedding," George said wryly.

That shut them up pretty quickly. George surveyed the occupants of the little tent. His older brother Bill looked rather at a loose end without any children surrounding him; his daughters were both with the bridesmaids. Percy looked severely bored and Charlie, as ever, was running late. Lee, he knew, was around but probably outside flirting with his girlfriend when they should both be in their respective tents.

"Cheer up, Perce," George grinned. "My wedding won't be half as boring as yours. We can use magic for one thing."

His brother glared at him. Suddenly he heard his sister's voice from just outside the tent.

"Oi! You ready, uglies? It's time!"

"As pleasant as ever, Potter," George yelled back. "We're coming."

The reams of groomsmen filed into the row behind George and his parents as he waited at the altar. Alicia and Katie flitted down the aisle to their places across from George in their beautiful bridesmaid's dresses.

It felt odd, standing there alone. Most men when they got married had a friend or a brother up there for support: a best man. George didn't.

Nervously he murmured to the air beside him, "Am I doing the right thing, Fred?"

The air, of course, didn't reply but George got his answer when his bride appeared. She was the most beautiful entity he'd ever seen and he didn't need a wink from his sister to assuage his doubts.

* * *

><p><strong>Another thing, Fred is an excellent name for your first son. Frederick Weasley II has such a ring to it, don't you think? If I'm dead you'd better name that sprog after me.<strong>

* * *

><p><span>21st March 2005<span>

"Congratulations Mr and Mrs Weasley. It's a boy."

George caught a glimpse of his son's deep brown head. In this light it shone with shades of auburn. Tears began to form in the young dad's eyes.

"He's beautiful," he said.

"He is," his wife smiled as the little baby was transferred into her arms.

"We haven't got a name," George realised suddenly.

Angelina disagreed. "His name is Fred. Fred Weasley," she said without a second of hesitation.

"But we didn't discuss it," George protested. "Are you sure?"

"He was always going to be Fred, George. Just because you never told me doesn't mean I didn't know. It's perfect."

An appreciative tear slid down George's face and he smiled a smile full of love at his wife and his newborn son, Frederick Weasley II, just as Fred wanted.

* * *

><p><em>5<em>_th__ July 1997_

_ "…and a family. A little girl who'll be so beautiful. She'll be just like Mum and have a family of her own someday. I want to watch her grow up."_

* * *

><p><span>27th July 2007<span>

The twenty-nine-year-old redhead shuffled quietly towards the lonely gravestone. The scenery around it was unchanged from even the first time he had been there.

"Hey, bro," he said softly. "I wanted you to be the first to know. We've got our little girl. She's called Roxy. Well, it's Roxanne actually, as good old Ange insists. She's doing great. So am I, really. I miss you, though. Four-a-side Quidditch is pretty difficult with only one Beater. Perhaps little Rox'll be one."

He pulled a photo out of his pocket and placed it on the cold stone.

"Here, this is her. I wish you could really meet her."

George sighed and stood.

"I best be getting back. I've got two terrors to watch out for now. I can finally sympathise with Mum! I'll talk to you soon, Fred."

Smiling sadly, George Weasley returned to his little family.

* * *

><p><strong>Basically, George, I want you to have a good life and don't worry about me. Move on, go crazy and remember, I love you. <strong>

** Look after yourself, Georgie. Don't do anything I wouldn't do.**

** Love, Fred. **

* * *

><p><em>5<em>_th__ July 1997_

_ "I'm so scared, Angelina."_

_ "You're going to make it through, Fred."_

* * *

><p><span>2nd September 2018<span>

"The house is quiet," George Weasley commented.

"I wonder how she's doing. She'll be arriving at Hogwarts now," his wife fretted.

"If she's anything like her mother she'll be an instant hit."

"And if she's anything like her father she'll already have detention," Angelina teased.

George didn't deny it. Silently he rose and snuck into the kitchen, pulling a yellowing crumpled letter from his pocket.

"Time to move on," he sighed. His hand hovered in mid-air, making a decision on the letter's destination.

Suddenly a hand firmly gripped his wrist, yanking it away from the vicinity of the bin.

"What on earth are you doing?" Angelina demanded. "You're really going to bin Fred's last words to you?"

"How the hell do you know what this is?" George bellowed back. "You've been rooting through my stuff?"

His wife stared at him in outrage.

"No," she stated quietly. "I sent it to you."

* * *

><p><em>3<em>_rd__ May 1998_

_With a smash the mug that had been clutched in the woman's trembling hands fell to the floor. She wiped away the tears trickling down her cheeks and bent to sweep it up. On her dining room table sat the letter. She had found it waiting for her the second she had stepped into the flat. _

_ Well, okay, it had been locked in a bottom drawer but in no time at all it had been moved to its present position. Angelina knew what had to be done with it and yet she didn't want to. It wasn't that she was maliciously denying the tiny bit of acceptance that it would bring to its recipient; it was that if she sent the letter then she would have to acknowledge the death of its sender. _

_ A single teardrop fell on the year-old parchment as she attached it to a nondescript Hogwarts owl. As she watched it go, it was as if she could feel a significant expanse of heaviness being lifted from her heart._

_ "You were right to be cautious, Freddy," she told an empty room._

_ Once relocated to the lake, George had once more sat motionless in staunch refusal to move. He saw the owl before he heard its call as it flitted across the lake. The letter was intended for him so he took it. _

_ Seeing the handwriting he could hardly believe his eyes. This was an exact replica of his own. Fred. The water rippled as George tore urgently into his mail._

* * *

><p><span>2nd September 2018<span>

Her husband took a step back. "I'm sorry," he said. "I should have known. There was only one person in the world Fred trusted as much as me."

Angelina accepted his apology.

"But what should we do with it? I've been relying on it for twenty years; that's half my life. I've followed every last piece of advice. I need to stop needing it!"

"George," Angelina said softly. "Why don't we frame it? Fred got us this far, we should honour that."

Both knew instantly that it was the right decision. Many years later, after George got home from his daughter's wedding, he watched his wife teaching his grandson the rules of Quidditch in the garden and smiled.

Even from so far away, Fred had made sure his brother lived the life he had been destined to.

**P.S. Look after Angelina for me.**

"_If… I don't… look after George."_


End file.
